Wingless Angels
by Insanity Strikes Thrice
Summary: A fic that chronicles the lives of the Four Seraphim before the world was split in two. Summary sucks. No REAL slash, although Yuan and Kratos may act rather gay on occasion. YuanMartel.
1. Heimdall's Half Elf Prince

Tales of Symphonia: Wingless Angels

By Dinuriel

A/N: Hello everyone. This is my first _ToS_ fic, so go easy on me, okay? If any of you have read my _Lost _or _SSX _fics, you'll know I'm bad for updating, but I'll try to get chapters up every once in a while as long as I have five reviews or more per chapter (on fictionpress I usually only ask for three, but I've always found it's a lot harder to get reviews on fictionpress because with fanfiction, people know the characters and the basis and everything and kind of have an idea of what they're looking for).

Anyway, I must warn you, this fic isn't funny. Yep, it's serious. But I hope you like it anyway; sorry if it seems a little weird. There may be evidence against me in some outcomes of the game, but I haven't seen every outcome (I usually take Kratos back, since he's my favorite character ever, and whenever I decide I want Zelos, I make Lloyd's love interest change from Colette to Sheena, because I hate Colette and wish she'd just _die_. So I haven't seen the ending with Zelos and when Lloyd likes Colette, although that probably isn't too different, really). So this fic is going to be written in three parts—Yuan, Kratos, then Martel and Mithos together, although everyone will appear in the other people's parts too. I'll end up going "back in time" when each new part starts, just as a warning, to give a little more background information on the character and a look through their eyes.

I hope that was enough information, but not too much. I'm kind of bad at judging that sort of thing.

So, enough with my ramblings—here's the first chapter. Hope you like it!

Part One: Yuan

Chapter One: Heimdall's Half-Elf Prince

There were once two great races that walked the world in equal numbers—the elves, who had mastered all the arts of magic, and the humans, who had not. Though it was not biologically true, the humans and elves considered themselves to be separate species.

Of course, there could only be one dominant life form; anything that was not of the superior specie was nothing but an animal. But this dominant life form… was it the elves, or the humans?

Both races, of course, believed themselves to be the dominant life form; as such, elves treated humans as animals, and humans treated elves in the exact same way. What wasn't the same was different—and what was different was dirt.

Not all elves and humans thought that way, though; merely _most _of them did. Some elves and humans grew to become allies, friends… even lovers. From these lovers came their offspring—half-elves.

For half-elves, life was difficult. Despised by both races, only their families and fellow half-elves could ever accept them; which was why Miras, King of the Elves, had a problem.

-

The elves and humans both lived in the same lands, in almost imaginary countries that seemed to overlap each other. Humans were not grouped to certain continents, and neither were elves; no, their cities lay dispersed amongst those of the opposing race, as inconvenient as it was for strong supremacists of either side. There was the human kingdom, and, on the same plane and earth, there was the elven kingdom, and two kings ruled their respective kingdoms within the same region.

The elven capital was Heimdall, a city deep within the mysterious Ymir Forest, and its king was Miras. Tall and strong, with his long, silvery-blue hair and deep violet eyes, Miras was the epitome of elvenity, what every young elf boy aspired to become. Like his father before him, the young king ruled his people in a strong, but gentle way, prepared to lead them through any circumstance, simple or difficult.

When his father died and he was crowned King of the Elves, Miras took the hand of a young elven woman named Ayrel. If Miras was every elf's son's idol, Ayrel was that to their daughters, with her shimmering rose-colored hair, lavender eyes, and soft, moon-like skin. Together, they would lead the elves to a new age, an age where they could live in a land free of humans… a land that rightfully belonged to elven kind, and elven kind alone.

About two years after Miras and Ayrel ascended to the throne, they declared joyously to their people that Ayrel was with child. The elves, of course, were excited when they heard the news—if two perfect elves such as Miras and Ayrel had a child, how perfect could that child possibly be? Eagerly anticipated was the arrival of the newborn prince or princess, from the earliest months of Ayrel's pregnancy onwards.

"Our child will be a boy," Ayrel would reply if an elf were to inquire about the baby. "Strapping and strong, with dark eyes and a firm jaw, just like his father."

Miras would then laugh. "No, love; the baby will be a girl. Beautiful, with a kind, loving soul, and a smile that can melt even the hardest of hearts, like her mother."

The projected date of birth drew nearer and nearer. The king and queen would sit on the balcony of their castle in Heimdall and look out into the forest, talking about everything they could possibly decide about their child; names, tutors, prospective suitors…

One day, about a week before the baby was due, Miras was off training his newly-formed elven army and didn't return to the castle until around dinnertime. Having had a fairly good day, he was not particularly worrying about anything as he made his way up the castle steps, until he was approached by a hysterical young maid, who told him the awful news—Ayrel had unexpectedly gone into labor and had died giving birth to their child, a stillborn.

Beside himself, Miras left Heimdall, placing his regent in charge of the kingdom during his absence. He wondered the lands aimlessly, desperately searching to fulfill his grief. He eventually came to the frozen continent said to be the home of the goddess Celsius, where he was attacked by a pack of wolves as he wondered the tundra. Those wolves were fierce, with jaws of steel and claws like stinging ice, but Miras never fought back; he had lost the will to live.

_Ayrel…_ he thought to himself as the wolves came upon him. _I will join you at last…_

Much to his surprise, Miras woke a few days later in the human city of Flanoir, having been found and nursed back to health by a young human named Lida. He didn't find her pretty; just a human, maybe better looking than most, with long blond hair and eyes of a deep teal. She was not his Ayrel, at any rate.

But as he recovered, he found that he had only the young woman to talk to; at first, he hardly spoke to her, but then came to the realization that they shared many common interests and opinions, and the two of them came to have several discussions of an intriguing nature that often lasted all day.

"I think marriage is a beautiful thing," mused Lida one day, "but only when there is love involved. A loveless marriage makes for a wasted life."

Miras nodded. "I agree; Ayrel and I had a good marriage because we loved each other. My own two parents, I know, had been an arranged match, and our home was a cold one."

"You miss Ayrel, don't you?" Lida then asked.

"I do," admitted Miras. "I know I always will. But we discussed this before—she would have wanted me to move on."

It was then that Lida posed the question of who Miras was to move on _with_—and it was then that he came to realize that he wanted to move on with _her_.

They hastily wed that very night, in an old Flanoir church, and headed back to Heimdall. Obviously, the people were pleased to see their king return, but were skeptical about his new human wife—what had happened to the king's plans to force the humans out of their lands?

The elves only became more uneasy when Miras announced that Lida was pregnant. The new prince or princess would be a half-elf; only a less derogative term for half _human_.

Heimdall made no preparations for the arrival of the half-elf baby, nor were any celebrations apart from those arranged by Miras himself expected. Instead of the excitement the elves had experienced for Ayrel's child, they grieved at the thought of Lida's—how could they bow down to the child of a human?

Finally, one rainy night, Lida felt the pains of labor come upon her. Miras led her to bed and summoned the midwife, then waited anxiously outside of their bedchamber, not speaking as he softly prayed to the gods.

_Origin, Maxwell,_ he silently addressed them, _Aska, Luna, Shadow… Volt, Undine, Gnome… Sephie, Yutis, Fairess… Efreet, Celsius… I beg of you; have mercy on this child of mine. Spare this new life, and Lida's… not like you did with Ayrel and our daughter. Please… let them survive._

The gods heard his pleas and took mercy on him; Lida gave birth to a healthy baby boy, and both mother and son were perfectly fine after the ordeal. The midwife left with a smile, and Miras, with a grateful glance upwards, entered and gazed upon his wife and baby.

The boy was asleep in his mother's arms, his breathing perfectly in time with hers; Lida herself, however, was still awake, though quite obviously exhausted.

"He's beautiful," whispered Miras as he sat down beside her.

Lida gave a tired smile. "Isn't he?"

They gazed down at the tiny baby she held; slowly, the child opened his eyes, revealing their rich teal color.

Miras laughed. "Hello, my son."

As the king leaned in closer, the new prince began to run his hands over his father's face, finally resting on his rather beakish nose.

"He has your eyes," Miras told his wife, still not looking away from his newborn son. "Hopefully, he will have your nose as well."

Lida closed her eyes. "What should we name him?"

"You're his mother," insisted Miras. "You gave birth to him; you have more right to name him than I do."

The two of them briefly locked eyes, then continued to watch over their child instead.

"If we had had a daughter, I was going to name her Ayrel," Lida muttered softly, "but our child is a boy."

Miras nodded. "We will need another name."

"You and Ayrel had a daughter, correct?" asked his wife.

"Yes."

"Did you have a name picked out had it been a boy?"

"Yes," the king sighed in recollection. "It was…"

Lida looked at him. "Yes?"

"…Yuan. Yes, it was Yuan."

Smiling, Lida turned from her husband to her son. "Hello, Yuan."

A/N: So sorry if that was a little weird. Next chapter Yuan will be a little older, so I'll cut out the narrator-is-God stuff and tell it from Yuan's point of view instead. Kratos will be coming into the story soon, but Martel and Mithos might take a while to get introduced, sorry if that saddens anyone immensely. Anyways, please review and thanks for reading.


	2. The Boy with No Friends

A/N: Oh my God, I'm sorry it's taken _forever _to update this! Writer's block has hit me bad—again. I must warn you, this is a regular occurrence, plus I am primarily a non-fanfiction writer and I only really write fanfiction on the side (I do like it though, and I definitely prefer reading fanfiction, lol) Sorry about that. Anyway, this chapter introduces Kratos, and, just as a warning, he is _weird _as a kid. But he'll get better, I promise, and his weirdness will be explained further in his own part of the story.

Also, I must thank all my reviewers. I'm not a fan of personal messages—I like to acknowledge everyone publicly, because I embarrass people like that.

Chiyanaski: Thank you very much. :)

Dawnstarshine: Yeah, the last part was weird—I tend to end chapters abruptly (I did that with this one too). I'm glad you liked the rest, though :)

nife: Of course. Here's your continuation :)

meganekko: Heheh, thanks. I kinda figured that about Kratos and Yuan too. Great minds think alike, eh? Ooooh, cookies and pie :)

Fantasy-Flyer: Yes, Yuan is a funny little child. And thank God neither of us work there anymore :)

LunaLocket: Here you are. Sorry it wasn't sooner. I hope this chapter was worth the wait (although I kinda doubt it, lol) :)

Anyway, onward to the very late second chapter!

Chapter Two: The Boy with No Friends

_The sun's shining outside, _thought Yuan as he gazed out the window. _I wish I was outside right now. It's so boring in here…_

His daydreaming was useless, he knew, but he couldn't help it; the warm rays of sunshine on his face were so inviting, practically begging him to join them in the quiet streets of Heimdall…

No. Even if his father _did _allow him to go outside, he still wouldn't be able to leave the grounds. As far as Yuan was concerned, Miras had only one definition of the word 'outside', and that was 'the courtyard'. Not once in his seven years had Yuan ever been outside the castle walls, and Miras was doing everything in his power to make it stay that way.

"Prince Yuan!" snapped his teacher from the front of the room. "Pay attention!"

Yuan sighed. "Yes, Remiel."

Scowling, Remiel turned back to the board and continued to write meaningless numbers and symbols as if they were the most important things in the world. Yuan hated mathematics—he wished Remiel would hurry up and start the lesson in literature instead.

The only thing could have possibly made mathematics enjoyable was a good teacher—unfortunately, Remiel was anything but. He hated his job, and had only taken it because he couldn't get one anywhere else in the city; he was a half-elf as well, and that was quite likely the only thing he and Yuan had in common.

Remiel ran his fingers through his fair hair as he pointed to the two fractions he had just written. "Now, Prince Yuan, which is the greater fraction? One half, or one fifth?"

_Well, they both have a one on top,_ he mused as he stared at the foreign language in front of him. _The half has a two on the bottom, and the fifth has a five. One, two, three, four, five. Five is the bigger number._

"One fifth," he answered.

"No!" Remiel snapped. "How many times must I explain fractions to you? They are not that difficult, your highness—you _should _know the basics by now!"

Yuan felt a tear well up in his eye. "But… but it's really hard!"

"It is only as hard as you perceive it to be. Now, if you do not receive a passing grade on your examination on Friday, rest assured that the king _will _be informed of it."

Not wanting his father to worry, he had told Miras that he was having no problems with mathematics; if he ever found out how hard fractions really were, Yuan would be surely be punished for being stupid, and then again for being a liar.

"But—"

"I think that we will take a break from your literature lessons today," continued Remiel, cutting him off. "Go find your father and ask him if you can play in the courtyard. You are dismissed."

"But—"

"Leave, Prince Yuan! Before I change my mind and move the examination to _today_!"

Trying hard not to cry, Yuan slowly nodded. "Yes, Remiel."

He left before his teacher could say another word. Stupid Remiel… stupid, mean, evil Remiel…

He wished he was an adult; someone who could stand up to Remiel, stare him down and tell him to go away. Someone who could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, someone free to leave the castle and walk through Heimdall and see the commoners, unashamed of his mixed blood…

Reaching the door to his parents' bedchamber, Yuan slumped against the opposite wall, allowing the tears to fall freely from his eyes. He needed his mother… and his father… and a friend. True, he hardly knew what exactly a friend was, but he'd seen the word in books and heard it in conversation enough times to understand the concept. A friend was someone who spent time with you and played with you and cared about you—sort of like his parents, but his own age.

Yuan didn't have any friends. There were no other children in the castle; no, all the children were _outside_. Outside… oh sweet forbidden world! Outside, where there was sunshine, fresh air, trees, grass… and friends.

"Friends? Nonsense, dear—Yuan's perfectly happy without them."

At the sound of the word, he looked up. The voice was his father's, and it was coming from the other side of the door. What did Miras know? Yuan _wasn't _happy; Miras was being just as stupid as Remiel.

"But every other child in Heimdall has at least _one_, Miras," his mother protested softly. "Don't you want our son to enjoy the simple pleasures of childhood? You can't protect him from the elves forever—perhaps you should find someone his own age who will be there for him for the rest of his life."

Miras sighed. "I suppose you're right, Lida, as usual; we'll talk to him."

"I knew you'd see it my way, darling," laughed Lida tiredly.

Through with crying, Yuan smiled; finally, he would actually get to _meet _someone who wasn't at least ten years older than him. He wondered what this person would be like. Would it be a boy or a girl? Exactly his age, or a few years older or younger? An elf? A human? Maybe another half-elf?

Personally, he hoped it would be another half-elf. Elves, from the few Yuan knew, were terrible snobs, and he had heard that humans were nothing more than barbarians, with the exceptions of his own two parents, of course.

And speaking of his own two parents…

"Yuan?"

He looked up to see none other than Miras standing in the doorway in front of him.

"Yes, Father?" Yuan addressed him, pulling himself to his feet.

Miras grinned. "Come in, son; your mother and I would like to discuss something with you."

_They want to talk about my new friend,_ he mused happily as he scampered past his father and into the room.

"Hello, Mother," he greeted Lida, jumping onto her bed and hugging her.

"Hello, sweetheart," she acknowledged, a tired smile appearing on her face.

Sighing, Miras sat down at the foot of the bed. "Yuan, your mother and I have been talking, and… well, we think it might be nice for you to have someone your own age to play with, perhaps."

"My own age?" repeated Yuan, trying to sound as if he hadn't been eavesdropping. "You mean… a friend?"

Miras nodded. "I suppose you could say that."

"What do you think, Yuan?" Lida inquired. "Would you like a little friend to play with?"

Yuan beamed. "Yes, please."

"Then it's settled," concluded Miras. "Tomorrow, I shall begin my search for your new playmate and I will not return here until I have found this child."

-

As it turned out, Miras was true to his word. He didn't return without Yuan's new friend—in fact, he didn't return at all.

He had left early Wednesday morning, Yuan knew as he had followed him until Remiel took him away for his lessons. As soon as the lessons were over, Yuan had run to Lida and asked if Miras had returned, but no such luck; his father wasn't back and he was still friendless.

Yuan kept one eye on the door all through dinner, expecting Miras and the new friend to burst through at any moment, but they never did—only the cook and the butler.

He didn't sleep at all Wednesday night, certain that his friend would find him in his bedchamber, but the newcomer must have gotten lost somewhere in the palace, because no one came to his door until Remiel came to get him for his Thursday lesson.

And so it was that while Remiel droned on about fractions once again, Yuan spent his time drawing pictures. His father… his mother… his new friend… himself… himself with his new friend… himself with his mother and father… all four of them together… some more of the new friend… some more of himself with the new friend…

Someone knocked at the door.

"Yes?" answered Remiel curtly; Remiel hated to be interrupted.

"Father!" Yuan exclaimed as Miras entered the room.

Miras smiled. "Remiel, you are free to do as you please for the rest of the day. Yuan can afford to miss a few lessons."

Remiel's eyes narrowed. "Of course, your majesty."

"Did you bring my friend, Father?" demanded Yuan as he ran to Miras and hugged him.

"Of course I did," Miras replied. "Now, hurry along to your bedchamber—I will bring your friend to you there."

"Yes, Father."

He released himself from the embrace and tore down the halls of the palace, very narrowly missing collisions with the butler, the maid, Lida's physician, the cook, a few walls, and an old chair Miras had finally decided to get rid of. Finally reaching his bedchamber, Yuan collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, but the smile not fading from his face; finally, his new friend had arrived.

The minutes seemed like months before Miras finally arrived, accompanied by a copper-haired human boy of about Yuan's age. This boy, however, wore no smile. His brown eyes were those of a man several times his young age, blinking scarcely as they examined their new surroundings and never resting on an object for less than a brief moment, as if afraid of becoming attached. A diminished, somber expression was just visible beneath his long, unrestrained bangs, making him appear more sickly and defeated than anyone, young or old, that Yuan had ever seen before.

"This is my son," Miras informed the boy, "Prince Yuan."

The young human nodded as his mahogany eyes met Yuan's teal ones. It was an almost surreal feeling, this connection; Yuan almost felt as though he was communicating with the dead.

Miras smiled. "Well, I shall leave the two of you to do as you please—I have some business to attend to."

And with that, the king was gone, leaving the two boys alone, locked in an awkward silence Yuan had never before experienced.

"So," he began at last, "do you want to play?"

"Play?" the other boy repeated. "What is 'play'?"

Yuan frowned; how did he not know what 'play' was? Plus, how did you describe play, really?

"Play is when you have fun," he decided on after a brief minute of thought.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Fun?"

"You know, when you're enjoying yourself," Yuan explained, wondering why on earth Miras had picked him such a stupid friend. "When you're happy. You know what 'happy' is, right?"

"I know what it is," the human assured him. "I don't know what it feels like."

Yuan rolled his eyes. "It's hard to explain. Kinda like fractions that way… oh no!"

"What's the matter?" asked the other boy, his frown deepening at Yuan's panicked state.

"My mathematics examination is tomorrow!" Yuan exclaimed in horror. "I have to pass, or I'll be punished! And fractions are so _hard_!"

"No they're not," the strange boy argued. "Let's say you have a cake, all right?"

Yuan nodded; he liked cake.

"But you have to share your cake. Would you rather share with one other person, or two other people?"

"One," he answered. "That way I get more."

The other boy gave a hint of a smile. "See? Just think of fractions like that—less is more."

In that minute, Yuan had learned more about fractions from this human than in several weeks' worth of lessons from Remiel. It was quite simple, really; how was it that he hadn't understood until now?

"So… do you want me to teach you how to play?"

-

By dinnertime, the boy looked neither tired nor sorrowful, Yuan noted. He was still quiet, but at least he was smiling; after only a few hours, he had gone from a hollow shell to a real person.

They had shared a fun afternoon. Yuan had taught him all of his favorite games, such as tag and hide-and-seek. He'd shown him all his toys, like his rocking horse and his stuffed dog. He had given him a tour of the palace, including the courtyard and even the balconies. Finally, Miras had come to Yuan's room and announced that it was time to eat, so they reluctantly followed him to the dining room and sat down for dinner.

The new boy's brown eyes had widened at the sight of the supper; it was as if he had never seen food in his life. He ate everything that had been placed on his plate, even the vegetables—Miras had practically had to force-feed Yuan his.

Finally, Yuan swallowed his last piece of broccoli and sprang from his seat, taking his friend by the hand and leading him to the last room in the palace they hadn't yet visited; Lida's room.

"Mother!" exclaimed Yuan, jumping onto the bed and wrapping his arms around her.

"Hello, sweetheart," she greeted him with a weak smile and a kiss on the cheek.

Her aqua eyes then rested upon the newcomer.

"And who is this young man?" asked Lida, her grin not fading.

"He's my new friend," Yuan answered promptly.

She nodded, then turned to the boy. "Come here. Don't be shy."

Shaking slightly, he slowly shuffled towards the bed and climbed on top beside Yuan.

"What is your name, dear?" she inquired, running her fingers through his auburn hair.

The boy frowned. "I… I don't have one."

"You don't have a _name_?" Yuan demanded. "You must; _everyone _has a name! What does your mother call you?"

His friend's lower lip quivered for a few seconds. At first, Yuan figured it must be a very difficult name to pronounce, but then a single tear fell from one of the boy's dark eyes, proving him wrong.

"Yuan!" Lida scolded.

Yuan flushed apologetically. "Sorry."

His mother shook her head. "There, there," she soothed the new boy, pulling him into a gentle embrace. "Yuan didn't mean to make you cry."

"I know," he assured her, "it's just… I don't have a mother either."

"You don't have a _mother_?" Yuan demanded. "You must; _everyone _has a mother! Who is your father married to?"

"Yuan, please!" snapped his mother once more.

His friend's frown deepened. "I don't have a father."

"You don't have a _father_?" Yuan demanded. "You must; _everyone _has a father! Who—"

"Yuan! That's enough!" Lida cut him off. She softly placed her hand on the human's face. "I can be your mother, if you like."

The boy nodded, a small smile emerging on his face. "I'd like that very much, your highness."

Lida laughed. "Call me 'Mother'. And as your mother, I should give you a name." She closed her eyes for a second as she thought, then opened them and smiled. "I know. Once, a long time ago, there was a hero who was chosen by the gods to save the land from an army of dark creatures. Overcoming many trials, he managed to defeat the power the creatures served, and ascended to the heavens with the gods as an angel."

"What was his name?" asked the boy.

"Kratos," Lida replied.

The boy nodded. "I like that name."

"So do I," she agreed. "Kratos it is."

A/N: Yeah, I know, cheesy… I tend to do that with the end of chapters, I just want to wrap them up and kinda rush through them. Oh well. Please send reviews. Reviews are tasty.


End file.
